


High Anxiety Jim – Companion Piece and ficlet

by deawrites



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Adultery, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-02-01 01:28:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12694221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deawrites/pseuds/deawrites
Summary: Jim's out of Arkham Serenity Hills and living with Harvey. Here's a glimpse into his healing journey.





	High Anxiety Jim – Companion Piece and ficlet

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [PTSD Jim](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12567172) by [deawrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deawrites/pseuds/deawrites). 



> A companion piece for PTSD Jim (shameless self promotion).
> 
> All mistakes are my own, but feel free to point them out so I can fix them.
> 
> To my wife who is my own support system, and I am hers.

**Nightmares/Rebuilding**

Jim woke up screaming. Harvey didn’t think he’d ever get used to the nightmares Jim had; their intensity, or content. He wasn’t thrilled to hear about how Arnold Flass had made an appearance and hissed degrading things into Jim’s ear while he held him down and raped him all over again. Yet he always asked, always needed to know because he loved Jim and wanted to help. Jim forever told him that the asking mattered as much as the listening, and god knew how desperately Jim needed to be heard. He didn’t talk about the rape very often, so when he did Harvey made certain he paid attention. Jim woke flailing and sweat coated, breathless and terrified. Harvey had learned not to grab a hold of him right away to offer comfort. He had learned to allow Jim to come fully awake before touching him. He used his voice, not commanding nor demanding; but gentle and even; steadfast and calm. He would then press a hand to Jim’s stomach and get him to slowly breathe from his diaphragm.

 

Jim shook uncontrollably with terror and Harvey would pull a blanket from the end of the bed around his shoulders. He would keep one hand upon Jim’s stomach and the other he would secure the blanket and not touch Jim until his wide, blue, gaze was focused and present. Only then would he encircle an arm around Jim’s shoulders and sit with him until he fully calmed. Restraining Jim in an embrace had proved to be the wrong thing to do, even though Harvey’s instinct had always been to cradle Jim close and soothe him with words and gentle kisses. It wasn’t what Jim required initially and Harvey had learned through trial and error what to do in the event of a nightmare.

 

It wasn’t surprising Jim had one. Jim had gone to a new support group and heard a few stories, even though he hadn’t contributed his own. He wanted to speak, he had told Harvey; but failed to because there was a woman that needed to share more than he did. Her story had apparently been brutal and left Jim feeling raw and exposed following the meeting. When Harvey had picked him up Jim was sullen and quiet, choosing to gaze out of the passenger window at the rain drizzled streets then involve himself in immediate conversation with Harvey. It had taken a little time once they arrived home for Jim to reveal the tone of the group that night, and while he listened Harvey sat upon the couch, Jim cuddled up against him trembling slightly. Sometimes the fear consumed him, and the memories seemed fresh instead of distant.

 

The past two years had been a rough road for Jim. He had spent much of the first year in the Arkham Serenity Hills recovery facility up state, and the past five months building a life with Harvey outside of its structured and confined walls. Assimilating to life anew was difficult enough, but to do so when everyone he had once worked with knew what had happened to him; at least that he had been in a recovery facility; was humiliating and made the task more difficult. In this sense Arnold Flass had forever branded Jim as his own creation; something Jim railed against every day since. Yet there could be no denying that he was a different man than he had been prior to the rape. If the nightmares weren’t indication enough, Jim’s shattered confidence was an obvious side effect. Jim attempted to build a life of normalcy, he moved into a new apartment with Harvey and they had begun a love affair that helped Jim to continue to strive towards healing himself. He attended cognitive therapy, took his medications and tried to eat and exercise regularly. He had a part time job that was low stress, but gave him structure to his days. He wanted to be healthy; to get better; yet some days the wind was crushed out of him and he could barely raise his head let alone live a life worth living.

 

To better combat such days, Jim had signed up with a gym to work out in that also featured kick boxing as one of its classes. The first day he was in the gym he had a massive panic attack in the men’s locker room and never even made it into the gym itself. The second time he attempted to use the facilities, Harvey went with him. This time he freaked out when a well-meaning personal trainer touched him to demonstrate the proper hip and weight placement for his boxing kicks. Harvey canceled the contract and Jim was refunded with the promise not to darken the doors of the establishment again. He was disruptive to the other patrons and obviously unprepared for public work outs. The panic attacks were becoming less frequent, however anxiety attacks often occurred when Jim was expected to navigate large groups of people or go somewhere he was unfamiliar with. Frustrated and ashamed Jim pleaded with Harvey to help him find a way to build his confidence and address safety issues he now faced when dealing with the public.

 

Harvey went to a few boxing and MMA clubs until he found a trainer that not only had time to deal with Jim’s ‘situation’ but also train him. Alfred Pennyworth was from Hammersmith London and what Harvey would describe as a gentleman.  He had heightened manners and took his time, didn’t seemed harried in the least. He was friendly, gentle, former S.A.S., and understood a thing or two about people suffering from PTSD. He revealed he worked with many veterans and even though Harvey didn’t go into detail and fully admit to Jim’s situation, Alfred was intelligent and caught on quickly to the inference. His response was human, compassionate, and empathetic and Harvey liked him instantly. More importantly Jim gave him a chance, and after a few sessions he began to lay the ground work to trust the other male. Alfred was four inches taller than Jim, yet they had similar builds. He didn’t touch him, crowd him, or otherwise invade his personal space. He never raised his voice and had a soothing lit to his English accent that Jim responded too. There were times when Harvey felt jealous watching them together, but then immediately guilty because he had barely began having any sort of sexual relations with Jim, so there was no way the younger male could be cheating on him. Jim still didn’t like it when other people touched him, especially if he didn’t see the or expect the contact to begin with. One more than one occasion Harvey found himself apologizing profusely for touching Jim when his back was turned, and causing Jim to nearly jump out of his skin; or spin around abruptly expecting an attack of some kind. The work outs from Alfred, therapy and drug cocktail seemed to be a good fit for Jim and Harvey did everything in his power to support Jim as well.

 

Like when Jim woke up screaming at three in the morning and fighting a memory of Flass in their bed. Jim kicked hard, and Harvey also got smacked upside the head before his voice could penetrate Jim’s fear enough to register. Chest heaving, and eyes wild, Jim looked at his lover and asked, “Harvey?”

 

“Yeah, Baby. It’s me.” Harvey moved to yank the extra blanket up from the bottom of the bed and draped it around Jim’s shoulders.  “It was another dream.” Jim nodded helplessly and surprised Harvey by reaching for him and wanting to be held. Harvey didn’t stop to question the preference, merely took Jim into his arms and stroked a hand down the side of his face as he brought Jim’s head towards his chest. “It’s all right.”

 

“It is _now_.” Jim admitted plaintively and hugged Harvey tightly. “I _hate_ it. I **hate** it when I dream like this!” Harvey kept his agreement to himself and allowed Jim time to speak more if he so desired. “I feel them touching me and,” Jim faltered and raised his head to look at Harvey’s gaze. “I don’t want to feel their hands anymore.” He stroked back a little of Harvey’s disheveled hair.  “Harvey, _please_ ; make me feel your hands instead.”

 

Harvey smiled tenderly and stroked his hands gently down Jim’s back, his movements slow and light. “How far do you want me to go, Jim?”

 

Jim shrugged and shook his head, tears pushing into his gaze. “I don’t know. I just, I just don’t want to feel them anymore.”

 

“Come ‘ere.” Harvey whispered leaning forward to nuzzle into Jim’s hair. He held him close and lay back, Jim eagerly laying down beside him. After fussing with the covers and getting the bedclothes squared away, Jim was laying halfway on top of Harvey. “Just like we usually do, use your safe word or motion, and I’ll stop immediately, okay?” He kissed Jim upon the forehead. “No judgement or guilt. I’ll just stop.”

 

“I know.” Jim stated softly burrowing back against Harvey’s warmth, feeling nervousness prickle his flesh once more. “Please go slow.”

 

“I promise to.” Harvey swore feeling the tension in Jim’s body and guessing he was second guessing his ability to withstand physical caressing.  Harvey spent the next hour lightly stroking his hands all over Jim’s torso and arms, his face and hair. He did nothing overtly sexual like reach for Jim’s genitalia and kept his kisses light instead of with the intensity of purpose. As Jim kissed him back and clung to him, Harvey grew a little bolder with his exploration and dropped a hand to cup Jim’s ass. Jim tensed for a few seconds then slowly relaxed as Harvey just held his hands still and didn’t move them until Jim was pliant upon him. This wasn’t about sex as much as it was about being intimate physically and Harvey at least had learned that lesson early on.

 

Jim was halfway hard, and pressed against Harvey seeking friction. His kisses became more intense, however Harvey continued the slow and steady pace he had set. Jim oversaw what they did, but Harvey managed the pace at which they did it. They both knew that Jim’s impatient nature would get the best of him at times, and sexual relations was something that neither of them could afford any more damage to be done to Jim.  He had suffered enough, and Harvey would be damned if he ever caused Jim any psychological pain if he could avoid it. Jim trusted Harvey and that trust was paid back in kind as Jim made little greedy sounds and sought to entice Harvey to speed up in the application of his kisses.

 

Harvey chuckled slightly, severing their current kiss and smiled. “Are you trying to rub one off against my leg, Junior?” He stroked Jim’s hair back from his forehead. The strands on top were much longer than it had been since Jim had been on the force, he had allowed it to grow while he was incarcerated at Arkham Hills. “Or are you just tryin’ to get a _rise_ out of me?”

 

Jim blushed and pulled his bottom lip into his mouth. “I want more. And you’re going too slow.”

 

“Maybe.” Reasoned Harvey still stroking Jim’s hair. “But I’d rather you be frustrated than,”

 

“Scared. Yes, I know Harvey.” Jim finished the statement. “I just, I want to come this time. I think I’m ready too.”

 

Surprise shined within Harvey’s gaze. “Are you sure?”

 

Jim nodded. “Fairly.” He reached up and took the hand that was stroking his hair and pulled it down to his hardening crotch. “Use your hand.” He directed breathlessly, and Harvey swallowed as his palm brushed against Jim’s cock through the fabric of his boxer briefs.

 

“I’ll go slow,”

 

“Not _too_ slow.” Jim interrupted quickly. “I’m close and I just need you to get me there.” Harvey continued to rub his hand against Jim’s crotch until the younger male pulled down the front of his underwear and breathlessly instructed Harvey to touch him. Rubbing turned into gentle strokes as Jim thrust a little into Harvey’s palm. He had his eyes closed, face pressed up into Harvey’s neck hiding and the older male didn’t fault him that. It was the first time he had ever had his hand upon Jim’s cock in the history of their relationship thus far. And while they both were enjoying it, there was an underlining victory to it for Jim. It didn’t take much to get him completely hard. A short time later Jim climaxed, ejaculate spilling over Harvey’s fingers and he nuzzled at Jim’s face. Jim raised his head and they kissed. Harvey slowly extracted his hand and Jim pulled his own underwear back into place.

 

“Wipe it on the front of my tee shirt.” Jim instructed, and Harvey obeyed. Their gazes locked, and Harvey smiled tenderly at his lover. “Thank you.”

 

“I should be thanking you, Junior.”

 

Jim shook his head. “Just hold me.” He pushed himself against Harvey and settled down instantly, his body relaxed and heartbeat calm.  Harvey did as he was asked and closed his eyes sending up a prayer of thanks to whatever gods were listening that Jim was healing, and doing so without shutting him out of the process.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Reality Holiday - Companion Piece and ficlet to High Anxiety/PTSD Jim](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12863454) by [deawrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deawrites/pseuds/deawrites)




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